I know it’s a complete and utter stereotype to be turned on by a man in uniform but I can’t help myself—I’m a sucker for pressed slacks, tucked in shirts and matching boots. Throw a badge in there and I’m *drooling*.
Another thing that really gets me wet is well-built guys with thick muscles who enjoy working out Weight Lifting, Cross Fit—anything of that nature will do. But they gotta be rippling and thick. Skinny guys just don’t do it for me. I’m a tall girl, thin with curves where you want ‘em so I can’t be riding a skinny guy—I need a guy who can *handle* me.
I moved into a new apartment last weekend. How does this have anything to do with what I just told you? Let me tell you.
I was waking up on my first morning in the new place, anxiously waiting for my coffee to brew, my eyes not even fully open yet when all of the sudden I hear thudding. Repeatedly. I can’t figure out what the noise is so I’m taking a few steps towards my front door before freezing and listening again. I do this until I’m all the way at my door, ear pressed to it, my breath baited.
*Thudthudthudthudthudthudthud* it goes again.
With nothing on but panties and an old high school t-shirt, I threw my door open and ran out over the railing. I don’t know what I was expecting to see or find, but I went out there like I was ready to solve a damn mystery.
In my underwear. *Oops.*
I scan the apartments below me and the grassy area that separates our building from the next one over. Nothing to be seen. And then I hear the noise again. I whip around and see a man running up the cement stairs behind me. Suddenly I am very aware that I am not in an appropriate outfit… *but I’m glad I’m not.*
He is tall, extensive shoulders with strong thighs, his torso covered in a weighted vest. His hat is on backwards but I can only imagine the tousled brown hair underneath, waiting for me to rub my fingers through it while I push his head down between my legs.
*Oh my, I’m getting carried away.*
I see his t-shirt is darkened with sweat and I realize the thudding is this man running stairs for exercise. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me, unsure where his gaze should go (though I did see him take me in from head to toe just once). I put my hand across my heaving chest and give him a shy smile while side stepping back to my apartment.
“I didn’t know what the noise was and…” I trail off, trying very hard to keep my eyes focused on his incredibly handsome face when all I want to do is check out his fucking amazing body. He smiles, his lips curl up into his cheeks and I see he has two small dimples. The desire to cover my lower half grows as I feel wetness pooling between my swelling pussy lips.
I make it back to my apartment and stand in the doorway, grabbing a pillow off the back of the couch inside and covering my panties. In truth, I wanted him to see me in my panties, for him to try and make out the definition of my folds, to see my wetness growing for him. But I’d learned it was better to pretend to be a good girl to get the good dick.
So, I blushed, I pretended to be embarrassed, and I apologized to him. I had no reason—he should be saying he’s sorry he scared me barreling up the stairs at 7am—but now that I’ve laid eyes on him, I know what it will take to get him. Be the good girl.
Firefighters like *good girls*. They want to fuck someone who will have their babies and make them meals. They want a girl who loves to camp and swim, but also wants to suck his dick and swallow his come. They don’t marry slutty girls who don’t provide a warm home for them.
So now I’m a good girl, covering myself with a pillow and blinking madly like some naïve virgin.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” he says, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his wrist. “I didn’t know anyone lived here. I live here,” he motions to the door directly across from mine.
I want to ask if he lives alone but its far too transparent so instead, I say, “now that I know its just you, it won’t startle me. Do you do this every day?”
Be interested in the shit they are interested in. That’s another thing I’ve learned about guys. Then he says *the most panty-creaming thing possible*.
“I do this four days a week and the other three days I’m at the firehouse.”
*The firehouse*.
*Oh Daddy, fuck me now, he’s a fireman*. I can feel my nipples perk up as he tells me, and I purposefully pull the t-shirt tighter to my body in hopes that he sees.
We exchange names. I want to exchange phone numbers but I know its too soon. And I don’t trust myself to not send him tit-pics when I’m stoned later tonight so it’s good that we don’t swap numbers yet. *We’ll get there*.
We exchange a few more pleasantries before saying goodbye, I’ll see you around, *blah, blah*. And then I retreat to my apartment and lock the door. Coffee is done and I have a ton of work to do but all of that now has to wait. *It has to.*
I go back to bed and pull the covers up over me. Closing my eyes, I find him in my mind.
His stubble, his smile, the sweat pouring off of his aching and sore muscles. I feel a gush of juices break past my lips and soak into my panties.
I don’t need any warming up. I go right for gold.
Sticking my hand in my panties I slide two of my fingers inside my sweet little box and let my thumb rest on my clit and I go at it.
I envision my sexy fireman spreading my legs with his hips and pushing into me. His cock is thick and long and he sure as shit knows how to fuck me with it. He pumps inside of me while sucking on my pink nipples and groaning to me that I feel *so tight, so wet*. Hearing him talk about my pussy has me dying to come, to clamp down on his massive member and milk him dry.
The last fantasy I have is him pushing all of the way inside of me and spilling into me, a massive load warming me from the inside out.
“Put a baby in me,” I whimper to him, reaching my own orgasm. My words cause him to come again and he lurches over me, his sweat dripping down onto my face and in my mouth. It’s salty and sweet and I imagine his come probably is, too. I can’t wait to taste it.
The thought sends me to the happiest place of all—orgasm land.
I start coming on my fingers, my clit so swollen I can’t even touch it anymore. Pumping inside myself, gently brushing my g-spot with my fingertips, I’m moaning loudly as my legs flail wildly on my bed. I can feel the orgasm gush into my palm, my thighs sticky with my own juice, and a spot underneath me on the bed is now wet, too.
I wonder if he heard me moaning and screaming and I almost hope he did. Living across from a fire fighter? Well, I guess it’s safe to say there will be a lot of loud self-play in my future.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hvwbb8/new_neighbor_a_touch_series_f_masturbation